Chapter Twenty-Two
Sevastyan turned to their unexpected guest.
Like a storm of energetic chaos, a thin woman pushed into his office.
Long chocolate hair hung past her shoulders and swayed with each step. Green eyes stood out from her oval face, but it was her full lips pressed into a thin line that caught his attention. Tonight just took a turn for the worse.
“Detective Vicente. Welcome to Haven. I had no idea cops held such late hours. You make house calls at three in the morning?”
“When necessary. I can’t seem to catch you otherwise.”
Sevastyan rounded his desk, hand out. “My partners.” He held a hand out toward Lucian and Matteo, who had taken a seat on the couch.
She nodded. “Gentlemen.”
“Your reputation has a way of making the rounds, Detective. It’s nice to meet the woman behind the drug bust that made the papers last month.” He rolled his shoulders and canted his head in a sign of respect.
Having one of Chicago’s finest detectives in his office brought about a rational irritation but he kept it buttoned down tight. He didn’t have time for niceties or social calls, but he knew what brought her to his doorstep.
“Your reputation has gotten around too. Bad men doing bad things and people like to talk.”
He held her gaze, unflinching. “What bad things brought you to Haven?” He gestured for her to take a seat. When she refused he remained standing.
“You know about the missing persons case that involves two of your clients, yes?”
“Not easy to forget. My clients’ protection while within these walls is taken seriously as I’ve explained to the detective assigned to the case when it happened.”
Among other things, this woman gave as much away in her expression as a slab of cold cement. All but a tiny tic in her jaw that told him she was working something out and since her attention landed on him, he was the center of her focus.
“I’m the leaddetective on this case now. The missing persons case has been reassigned to me, and I thought I would drop by and introduce myself. I’ve read over the reports and statements given by your staff and yourselves.” In her hands was a leather-bound file from which she produced a picture as she spoke. Then she flipped it around to face him.
Son of a bitch.
It seemed everyone wanted a piece of Rhia.
“Which brings me to this girl. Have you seen her?” She turned and faced Lucian and Matteo, showing them the blurred black and white picture, which looked like it was taken off a security camera. But there was no mistaking the beautiful curls and regal neckline of the little hellcat. Whatever she was up to caught the eye of the authorities.
She nodded. “Of course you know her.”
He leaned into the picture for an unnecessary closer look.
“Rhia Crowne has been seen coming into this establishment. You know her as—”
“Seraphina Carmichael. You’re right. We know her,” Sevastyan stated coolly, cutting her off. No use in hiding that fact. “She came in looking for a job as a hostess a few weeks ago and is now my assistant. We recently discovered her dual identity.”
“That’s one hell of a climb up the ladder, Mr. Volkov. Does she know you know? Mind telling me how she got this job so quickly and without you knowing of her deception sooner?” Sincere puzzlement crossed her face and pinched another perfect brow line into a peak.
Older than Rhia by a year, two at the most, Sevastyan could appreciate the fact the woman climbed the ranks within her division to make detective at an early age. Not an easy feat, he knew. Dressed in black jeans and a white t-shirt with a pullover jacket that allowed easy access to her weapon, Sevastyan held a certain respect for her. He saw the same tenacity in her as he did Rhia.
“That’s an easy answer,” Lucian cut in. He pushed up from the couch and came to stand beside the detective, laptop keyed up. “Here’s her resumé. When we hired Ms. Crowne, it was for trial purposes, to see how well she fit into this line of work. As you can see, all her paperwork is in order and with the years of college she had more experience and worth to Haven in an office working as an executive assistant than serving drinks to clientele. We didn’t see the need to dig too deep. No national security clearance needed to serve drinks or shuffle paperwork.”
Sevastyan watched Lucian work a bit of his charm on her with a pull of his lips into an easy grin. It worked. Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, and she didn’t look like she wanted to see them ten feet under the local jail.
Her expression turned less than stone cold and he dared say slightly less formidable.
From behind her on the coach Matteo rolled his eyes slightly in a sign of frustration and impatience. He wanted to get out of here and head to Rhia’s. He knew the man too well to think he would stay away from their little hellcat.
The detective took a seat on the edge of a nearby chair. Lucian joined her in the opposite and Sevastyan took his. Matteo opted for the window.